Strawberry Kiss
by FenixPhoenix
Summary: When Tohru has to deal with her mother's anniversary of death, Kyou is quick to remind her that she is not alone. ::Kyou/Kyo x Tohru:: One-Shot.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Fruit Basket or any of its characters. I am just burrowing them. The plot, however, is all mine.

**Summary**: When Tohru has to deal with her mother's anniversary of death, Kyou is quick to remind her that she is not alone.

**Universe: **Anime based.

**Status: **Complete. Published 02-03-08 -- Finished 02-03-08.

**Story's ****Key:** "Talking" -- _Emphasis_

**Author's notes: **This is my first Fruit Basket fic. I decided to do a small one-shot which is much more like a drabble. Anyhow, this will be also my first attempt at telling a story through one of the characters' point of view (Tohru's in this case).Please do remember to **review** and **enjoy**!

**Word Count: **1,326.

**Last edited:** 12th of May 2009.

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"_If you cry because you lost the sun, the tears will block away the stars.__"_

_-Rabindranath Tagore-_

"**Strawberry Kiss****"**

By: FenixPhoenix (Giselle González)

**One-Shot**

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At last I crumbled on my bed dreading yet waiting to face what was to come. I had finished cleaning the house until it was spotless, washing the dirty laundry that had accumulated into a dangerously high pile and I had even the will and energy to tend to the vegetable garden.

Yet, I sadly realized that even if the sun had given way to the shining moon, it was still the _same_ date --unchangeable and treacherous as it glared back at me through my closed window.

So now I lay here waiting… dreading to face the inevitable. I can feel the night's tendrils clawing at my heart and tearing my happiness to shreds until I am left as I am… Sad, terrified and at the mercy of the feelings I vainly seek to disguise under a carefree smile.

Truth is, I am worn… utterly tired when I reach for the picture that _calls_ to me from atop the nightstand to my right –demanding that I acknowledge how much it hurts me that she is gone.

I fix my eyes upon the picture framed and I feel the unbearable pain like a cold and hard punch to the face. It is a wave so strong that I am left shivering and whimpering -as quietly as I can- below the blankets of my bed.

Yet --though I suffer greatly-- my mother still greets me with a frozen smile of un-dimming happiness from beneath the fragile glass.

After a while of silent staring and soft sobs I wonder about the present. How much time has gone by? How much time has passed since the first tear shed? This I do not know, as I lie too welled up in my grief to spare a glance at the tickling clock nearby.

My first recollection of time tonight comes when a soft knock at my door disturbs me, reminding me that the rest are back and I am not alone anymore. To mourn from this moment on would be too difficult to keep secret now that my solitude has been interrupted.

"Y-yes?" I ask, trying hard to quell my feelings so that I may be able to mask my sadness under my never-wavering smile --else I shall spoil anyone else's night.

Slowly -almost with vacillation- the door opens enough so as to allow an orange topped head to peep inside.

"Are you alright?" Kyo asks as a worried frown –so odd in his permanent scowling face-- creases his feline but handsome features.

As I quickly scan his expression I immediately realize I had not been successful and even as I attempt to smile I find, to my dismay, that I am only able to quirk the corners of my lips. It is a ghost of a smile and nothing more.

"I am fine, Kyo-kun," I lie trying to sound as if I mean it. Yet, somehow, managing to sound so _exaggeratedly gleeful_ that I know only an idiot would believe me. Still, I seek to recover from my slip and am able to sound more truthful when I ask, "How was your day, Kyo-kun? Did you have fun?"

Kyo shrugs and answers nonchalantly. "It was okay…" He seems uncertain but finally ventures, "Are you sure you are alright?"

As I search for an answer to that, I wonder if he heard my sobs or if perhaps my eyes had betrayed my facade. Nevertheless, I insist I am well and watch as –with one last nod—he disappears behind the door.

I feel my eyes suddenly watering again and promptly realize I am ruthlessly thorn. Selfish of me, I know, but I really wanted him to stay. I want to feel the comfort of company dividing my misery and keeping my heart hold, else it should shimmer inside my ribcage.

Yet, he left and part of me –the smallest and unselfish part of me-- is pleased.

Now more careful to keep my sobs low and measured so as not to disturb anyone else, I turn to the clock when I feel too much time has gone by. The hands of my enemy seem frozen, _mocking_ me as they remind me the hour when my mom died all those years ago.

I also realize that it has been an hour since Kyo checked on me and I feel vulnerable as my fingers clasp the frame that has not left my hands. And it is –as I look down at the picture—that I finally understand Kyo's concerned look. It had not been only my voice and my eyes that had given me away but the picture I neglect to put away; as if the object exerts a mystical and horrible power over me.

Suddenly, there comes a knock upon the door and –before I can wipe the tears that had stream down my cheeks—a figure swiftly and so very quietly make his way inside.

I try to speak, but I am unable to maintain my voice steady and choose a silent query instead by tilting my head sideways. Now that I have been so shamefully caught on my raw pain I cannot seem to recover my feign merriness, not that I have the strength to do so to begin with.

Mutely --his eyes filled with un-disclose worry-- he sits on the foot of my bed and places gently a plastic bag between us. I shift so that I am now in a sitting position and wonder what mystery lies within the bag.

"I am not sure _how_ it works," he confides solemnly as he offers me a silver spoon. "But I have seen it work on numerous movies," he finishes taking out a bottle of strawberry ice cream --I am guessing-- he recently bought.

I feel my eyes watering as I finally place my mother's picture back on my nightstand. The clock –now unfrozen—marks 10:30.

My mom is dead _again_.

Feeling Kyo's worried gaze on me I smile –so truthfully and gently this time—and, without further invitation, I attack the ice-cream mumbling bits and pieces of the memories with my mom I cherish the most.

He doesn't say anything. He doesn't even move. Yet I know he listens and that is enough. As I am halfway through my ice-cream I feel less sad –comforted by the gentle face before me, the soul that understands me the most.

I take a spoonful of the delicious dessert and reach his way. He hesitates for only a second before he opens his mouth to accept my gift alongside my wish to share. We finish the lingering contents; Kyo having let me feed him half of it uncomplaining. Then, he retrieves the things and, as he reaches for the spoon in my hand I lean forward and –before either of us knows it—I _kiss_ him lightly near the corner of his lips.

I see him blushing brightly and I know my face is a mirror of his own. Only my eyes do not hold surprise but the deepest gratefulness and admiration.

"Arigato, Kyo-kun," I say handing him the spoon.

"Ah, h-hai. It was nothing," he raises embarrassed and –still brightly blushed-- moves towards the door still dazed by my _strawberry kiss_.

"Oyasuminasay, Kyo-kun," I say as he opens the door.

He turns to me then and I see –in the second before he turns off the light—his soft gaze upon me and a tender and tentative smile upon his lips.

"Oyasuminasay, Torhu-chan," and his face disappears as the light goes out. "Your mom would be proud," he whispers before he closes the door.

And I know, as I lay among the darkness, that from this day forth… I shall _never_ be alone.

**...:..**

**Story Written by: Giselle González**

© Fruit Basket is property of Natsuki Takaya.


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